Lilliput

by Sam Gayton

  Lily and Finn gawped at the pile of money. It was a Lilliputian fortune, but was that enough? Would the miniature coins buy their freedom?

  She glanced at Mr Plinker. A little line of dribble fell from his open mouth and he wiped it away. ‘So you will give me all of these … these sprugs?’

  ‘Every single one.’ Gulliver asked, ‘I am offering you Lily’s weight in gold. What do you say?’

  The clock maker stepped closer to the pile of sprugs and inspected them. A sly look rustled across his face, and then was gone. ‘We have a deal,’ he said. ‘I am not interested in Lily – just the fortune that she will make me. If I take these sprugs, I shall be rich far quicker.’ The clockmaker gave Finn an icy stare. ‘And you can have my apprentice too. He is worthless to me.’

  Lily looked on uneasily as Gulliver tipped the gold sprugs into Mr Plinker’s hands. The clock maker had a cheerful smile on his face, but it was only a mask – when she looked at his eyes they were cold slits.

  It’s a trick, she realised. He’s lying. He wants us all. Me, Finn and the sprugs as well.

  ‘I have Lily locked in here,’ said Mr Plinker, showing Gulliver the Astronomical Budgerigar. ‘Move away, Finn. Just let Gulliver reach in and pick her up.’

  Lily frowned. Mr Plinker wasn’t telling Gulliver to reach in through the window – he was telling him to put his hand right in between all the sharp-toothed cogs …

  She scooped Stabber from the floor again, her heart racing. Something terrible was about to happen.

  ‘Don’t do it!’ Lily yelled. ‘It’s a trap!’

  But it was too late. Before Gulliver could pull back his hand, Mr Plinker seized the wind-up mechanism of the Astronomical Budgerigar and, with a murderous grin, he twisted it clockwise. The clock shuddered into life.

  IT WAS LIKE being inside a battle. All around Lily there was utter pandemonium. Cogs clashed together like shields, springs stabbed out like spears, and the Astronomical Budgerigar began tearing itself to pieces.

  Gulliver’s scream echoed round and round the clock. It was the loudest, most terrible sound Lily had ever heard, and she knew he had not been able to jerk his hand from the clock in time. She ran down through the tunnel, back towards Swift. She had to get on that saddle. Any second now the clock would strike one, and the perch would whoosh Swift out into the workshop. Or the cogs would drag Lily into their screeching whirligig and it would all be over.

  She jumped desperately for the saddle, but Swift reared up again and she slid down his back, plunging towards the grinding cogs.

  Her fingers found the tip of a feather, and she jerked to a stop, dangling from Swift’s tail. The bird cried out and shook from side to side. Lily’s blue slippers fell from her feet, and the clock shredded them in seconds. Her toes wriggled in the air, hovering above the gnashing cogs.

  The feather slipped a bit more through Lily’s fingers and her feet almost plunged into the machinery. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hung there, suspended. Slipping bit by bit …

  ‘Murderer!’ she heard Finn yelling out. ‘Murderer! Mur—’

  Click went the door at the end of the tunnel. Ping went the spring below the perch. And the Astronomical Budgerigar struck one.

  Behind the perch a spring released, and Lily and Swift shot through the clock’s tunnel like a bullet in the barrel of a gun. Out into the workshop they tumbled, as Swift unfolded his wings.

  And flew.

  Behind them the Astronomical Budgerigar tore itself to bits. Cogs whizzed through the air, shooting sparks like Catherine wheels. They sliced candlesticks in half and buried themselves in the walls. One of them passed by Swift’s wing in a blur and almost ripped Lily in two.

  Finn and Mr Plinker dived for cover as the Astronomical Budgerigar collapsed into a pile of springs and spokes.

  Up in the air Lily clung on desperately as Swift corkscrewed around the room, dodging the clockwork missiles. Dizziness overwhelmed her and she lost her grip.

  ‘Skee, skee!’ she called out as she fell. ‘Help me, Swift! I’m falling!’

  Swift dived down to try and catch her, but he was too late. Lily fell onto a mound of greasy, smelly rope.

  ‘Urgh …’ she groaned. ‘What is this?’ With a jolt, she realised. It was hair.

  Lily had fallen onto Mr Plinker’s head.

  She scrambled to her feet just as his hand reached up to grab her. Drawing Stabber again, Lily lashed out with the needle, hearing the clock-maker’s howl of rage.

  Above her Swift veered away from the clock maker. Lily jumped up again, trying to catch a hold of his tail or his feet, but he flew too fast and she missed.

  Then Mr Plinker tipped back his head and she slid down his forehead, his oily hair slipping through her fingers as she tried to stop her fall. As Lily bounced down his nose, the clock maker tried to snatch her again, but missed and hit himself in the face. Lily skidded over his lips and toppled off his warty chin. Into empty air.

  Mr Plinker’s hands came up to trap her, but they came together in a clap, empty. She plummeted, waiting for the sickening SPLAT on the floorboards … but it never came.

  Because, when Lily opened her eyes, Finn had reached out and caught her.

  ‘You escaped!’ he said.

  ‘That’s right.’ She plunged her hand into the Waste-Not Watch. ‘And now it’s your turn.’

  In a moment, her hands were round Finn’s wasted seconds. They flew out of the clock again, until the strap was so loose it slipped from his wrist and the watch tumbled to the floor.

  Finn was free.

  ‘No!’ snarled Mr Plinker, seeing he was about to lose both Lily and Finn for ever. He aimed a vicious kick at his apprentice, sending Finn hurtling back into the wall. The impact sent Lily flying from his hand. She soared across the room, ploughing feet first into the ashes of the unlit fireplace.

  Lily dragged herself choking from the cinders, eyes streaming. Finn had crumpled on the floor in a heap, Swift spinning around his head.

  Mr Plinker scooped up the Waste-Not Watch and pinned Finn against the wall.

  I have to get Mr Plinker’s attention. I have to draw him away from Finn.

  Lily looked up at Swift, still circling around the room and crying out in a panic. He was her only hope.

  ‘Swift!’ she called desperately. ‘Fly down here! Down to the fireplace and up the chimney! Up the chimney!’

  But all that came back to Lily were her own words, echoed and slightly changed.

  ‘Chimney! Chimney!’

  Lily stared in confusion up the chimney as her echo spoke to her again, this time in Spanish: ‘Hasta la chimenea!’

  ‘Señor Chitchat!’ she cried as the parrot began to babble down the chimney in a series of high-pitched chirps. He was up on the roof, calling down the flue. But what was he squawking about?

  And then she understood at last.

  Señor Chitchat was translating.

  The parrot was talking in Swiftian so that Swift could understand.

  Lily looked up. Above her, Swift circled the room one last time. Then he dived into the fireplace, angled in an impossibly steep climb, and shot past her.

  Up the chimney.

  Gone.

  LILY CRIED OUT. Swift had Gulliver’s map in his saddle. The bird she had to fly and the map she needed to follow had both vanished into the night.

  ‘Don’t leave!’ she cried in despair. ‘Not without me!’

  And, up above, Señor Chitchat cried out: ‘Don’t leave! Skee, skee, skee!’

  Lily felt a glimmer of hope. The parrot was telling Swift to stay. And if he was talking to Swift, maybe Swift was still up there. Waiting for her.

  ‘Hold on!’ she cried, gripping the brick of the fireplace. ‘I’m coming!’

  Then a hand scooped her up into the air. She screamed and whipped out Stabber, but it wasn’t Mr Plinker. Or Finn. They were both still fighting each other on the other side of the workshop.

  ‘Climb, Lily.’ Gulliver’s voic
e was tiny and weak like a child’s. ‘Climb up. Get free.’

  He lifted her as high as he could, and let her go.

  Lily stepped onto the chimney bricks, looking down at the hand that had held her. It was covered in something sticky and dark. The Astronomical Budgerigar had wounded Gulliver terribly. Whole rivers of blood were flowing out of him, from a dozen different wounds. The glooping, iron smell of it made her gag.

  ‘I’ll fix you,’ she managed to say. ‘Like I fixed Mr Plinker.’

  He shook his head violently. ‘You can’t,’ he said.

  Lily opened her mouth to protest, but then she saw it. The sprung perch from the Astronomical Budgerigar. It had broken off from the clock and stabbed Gulliver like a spear. It was jutting into his heart.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said, and his voice filled with panic. ‘Will you forgive me, Lily?’

  Lily looked at him open-mouthed, and searched for an answer. But whatever she said, Gulliver wouldn’t hear. His spectacles were like empty windows. There were no longer any thoughts behind them at all.

  ‘I forgive you,’ she said anyway, hoping that somewhere, somehow he was listening.

  Then, her eyes blurry with tears, she turned to Mr Plinker and shouted: ‘HEY, you ZIJJI-GUNCHING QUOG!’

  On the other side of the workshop Mr Plinker whipped round. He was just about to slip the Waste-Not Watch back over Finn’s wrist. The hand that held the watch hovered in the air.

  ‘I’m climbing up this chimney,’ she said. ‘And when I get to the top I’m going home. To Lilliput. So if you want me, you’re going to have to catch me.’

  And she began to climb.

  Mr Plinker’s eyes slid back and forth. From Lily to Finn. Finn to Lily. He couldn’t have them both – he would have to choose.

  With a roar of frustration, he dropped Finn and the Waste-Not Watch and lunged for Lily. But his hesitation had cost him precious seconds, and she was already scurrying up the bricks out of his reach.

  ‘LILLIPUTIAN!’ he bellowed up the flue. His shout rang in Lily’s ears. ‘YOU HAVEN’T ESCAPED! I’M COMING FOR YOU!’

  Writhing and kicking, Mr Plinker came up the chimney after her.

  Arms aching with the effort, Lily pulled herself a little closer to the sky above. Mr Plinker’s roars made the whole chimney shake, sending soot tumbling down from above. It fell in her mouth, her eyes, up her nose, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, he would snatch her.

  She climbed on, half-blind and half-deaf and half-dead with exhaustion. Below her Mr Plinker gave chase, but in the cramped chimney his size was not an advantage. The giant had to squeeze himself further and further up as the flue became narrower and narrower. He wheezed and spat as the soot covered his face.

  But he was still gaining.

  His shouts were coming closer.

  Lily pulled herself up again, for the last time. She leaned against the bricks, wheezing. Her arms were on fire, her legs were water. She had nothing left. She couldn’t climb any further.

  ‘You can’t escape!’ Mr Plinker choked. His face was transformed into a nightmare, streaked with snot and soot. His fingertips were inches away … All he had to do was reach out and take her.

  Lily drew Stabber, lunging at Mr Plinker’s fingers, ready to fight to the end.

  ‘Come on,’ she gasped. ‘Snatch me if you can.’

  The clock maker reached out, but his fingers got no closer. His grin faded. He kicked again, he wriggled and shook, until his eyes bulged in their sockets. He roared, he screamed, he swore and sobbed, but none of it did any good.

  He was stuck.

  Lily looked up to the square of sky above as something fell down towards her.

  A black shape.

  It unfolded.

  It flew.

  ‘Swift!’ she cried. He had listened. Señor Chitchat had made him understand. He had come back to save her. ‘Skee, skee …’ cried Swift, and Lily smiled and let go of the brick. For a moment she hung in the air, just above Mr Plinker’s straining hand. Then Swift performed his impossible turn. With a bump, Lily landed in his saddle and soared away from the clock-maker’s grip.

  ‘LILLIPUTIAN!’ he screamed, one last time.

  She shot out of the darkness of the chimney. The world fell away as they rose up and up and up. She rode a black arrow in the crisp air.

  Tugging on the harness, she made Swift spin left and roll right. He dived and looped-the-loop. It was as if they were writing a message on the sky. Swift and Lily. Lily and Swift. Together.

  It was a single word, just one word, and Swift wrote it over and over again as he flew through the air: freedom.

  Freedom.

  Lily was free.

  She let the reins drop, and Swift shot down, whipping round the chimney where Señor Chitchat sat preening his feathers.

  ‘Adios, amigos!’ he called.

  Waving, Lily arrowed past him, down to Tock Lane. Out from the alleyway staggered Mr Ozinda, covered head to foot in sludge and muck. Lily flew Swift over his head, as Dumpling stared open-mouthed and Horatio purred in her arms.

  ‘Farewell, my girl!’ shouted Mr Ozinda. ‘Adieu to you! Be glad, not sad! Eat well, don’t dally, watch for rain! Perhaps we’ll see you once again! If not, we’ll see you all the same!’

  But Lily couldn’t leave yet. She wheeled Swift round to stare anxiously at the workshop. She had to know Finn was safe. But the door stayed shut. No one came out.

  ‘Where’s Finn?’ she called to Mr Ozinda as she circled. Swift tugged on the reins, trying to fly south. ‘Swift wants to leave, he needs to go south! He should have left months ago!’

  ‘Then go!’ Finn cried as he burst through the door at last. ‘Go home, Lily!’

  ‘Goodbye, Finn!’ she shouted. ‘Goodbye! I won’t forget! I won’t ever forget!’

  Swift circled the roof twice, with Lily waving and waving. And Finn waved back.

  Morning was coming. The sun was a golden cup spilling over the horizon, and the leaves lay crisp and brittle in the trees at the end of the lane, waiting for a cold wind to blow them south.

  And, as her safekeepers watched, Lily turned and flew over London, towards the Thames.

  She headed for the horizon.

  For home.

  For Lilliput.

  Epilogue: RETURNING

  I fear my fate will prove something like that of the famous Christopher Columbus, who was ridiculed for his Notion of the New World.

  (Lemuel Gulliver, Travels to Several Remote Nations of the World)

  IT WAS SPRING, and the birds were returning to London. Finn Safekeeping sat on the roof of Plinker’s Timepieces, watching them come. With one hand shading the sun from his eyes he scanned the sky. It was very good to sit there on the warm tiles, with his cuffs and collar undone and his skin tingling in the wind.

  All around, the world was waking up. Winter was over. Everything was beginning again.

  Six months had passed since Lily had left London. Since Gulliver’s body had been returned to his family in Nottingham. Since Mr Plinker had been jailed in the Clink for murder. Since Finn had got himself a new master, who made chocolate instead of clocks.

  So much had happened. So much was about to happen.

  Suddenly Mr Ozinda’s voice came up from the street. ‘Finn? Your adventures are about to begin! Come down quick, or you’ll miss them!’

  ‘Coming!’ Finn called, still looking at the sky. He couldn’t tear himself away. He wanted to stay a little longer. Just a few seconds more.

  ‘If you are coming, you must come right now. The Orinoco sets sail in an hour, my boy!’

  Finn sat up with a start and nearly toppled off the roof. ‘An hour?!’ he cried looking down at the Spaniard. ‘But I haven’t packed!’

  Mr Ozinda grinned and held out Finn’s sack, crammed full of clothes. ‘Don’t thank me, thank Señor Chitchat. He’s the one who remembered.’

  Finn sank back with relief. ‘I’m sorry,’ he blushed. ‘I’m such a fool. I
lost track of time …’

  Gripping the chimney he stood up and looked south, at the Thames running through the city like a vein of silver. The Orinoco was setting off from the docks near Wapping. An hour. He would have to run, and perhaps tail on the back of a carriage, but he would make it. Just.

  ‘Wait any longer, Finn, you may have to swim,’ Mr Ozinda yelled up at the roof. ‘Señora Ozinda does not like to be kept waiting.’

  Finn knew it. And he did not want to disappoint Mrs Ozinda, especially after she had been so kind and agreed to take him away to sea.

  ‘Come down,’ said Mr Ozinda. ‘You are going to the Americas, where the cocoa beans grow. And Señora Ozinda will show you all she knows – how to spot the finest beans, how to haggle out a sum … So do not sit here, waiting for a bird that might not come.’

  Finn nodded, allowing himself one last look at the birds. There were sparrows squabbling over crumbs in the street. A blackbird singing from a window ledge. A few flustered pigeons listening, too stupid to learn a song.

  But no Swift.

  ‘It means nothing, Finn,’ Mr Ozinda called. ‘You know that. Perhaps he has stayed in Lilliput. Perhaps he is roosting somewhere else …’

  Finn shook his head. ‘No. A swift comes back to the same nest, the one it leaves behind. He’ll be here. He’ll roost in Mr Plinker’s chimney. The place where he was born.’

  Mr Ozinda shrugged and sighed. ‘Finn,’ he said at last. ‘Even if you do see Swift, it does not prove that Lily made it home. You know that. We did all we could. She knew the risks.’

  Finn didn’t answer. His fingers fiddled with the new silver buttons on the jacket that Mr Ozinda had bought him. Then his hands dipped into his pocket and took out the Waste-Not Watch.